Smoke billowed from the explosions.
Ben, now close enough to see the carnage, narrowed his eyes.
His stronghold was almost destroyed.
The gate was gone.
The walls had crumbled, with massive chunks of stone and chitin scattered across the ground.
Parts of the second floor had collapsed, torn apart by blasts.
The ground was scarred with deep craters, the remains of the traps he had set.
Amidst the destruction, the fight still raged.
Ben did not slow down.
He pushed forward.
His armor expanded, chitin plating growing over his arms as his pickaxe materialized in his grip.
Before he could throw himself into the fray, he crashed down.
BOOM.
He slammed into the ground like a meteor.
The impact sent a shockwave outward.
The nearest Ravagers stumbled, thrown off balance.
Ben did not waste the opening.
He swung.
His pickaxe carved through the first Ravager's skull like wet clay.
The beast collapsed before it even registered death.
A Ravager leapt forward, claws flashing.
